Dear Brian Melton,
My name is Jessica Regan (No relation to the Regan’s of the 80’s…Go Republican’s!) and I am an avid reader of Unfinished Boundaries. You must be so proud of being the editor of such a wonderful and humorous website. What is it like? Gosh…I can’t even imagine.
Hehe…well, I sort of am embarrassed because, as you know, I read your website have printed out your various articles and pictures and have canvassed my bedroom walls with them. See…hehe ok now I’m blushing…I have a little crush on you. Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m writing this. When I heard you were Catholic in the “Sunday Bloody Sunday” article I said to myself, “Jessica…this is the man for you.” See, I’m Catholic and I’ve always had a thing for other Catholics…so when we meet…could you make the sign of the cross for me?
Oh, this brings me to my next question…when are you free? I know that you must have a thousand girls running around naked at your beck and call, but honestly…none of them compare to me. First of all I’m sexy. I can fit into a bra and panties just like any woman you’d ever run into, and sometimes I even go shopping at Victoria’s Secret. If you’d like, you could come with and pick out something that you think would look smashing on me.
Second of all, I can cook like you wouldn’t believe. My mother always used to tell me that if I sat around and ate all the food I prepared then I would be as big as a house. Well, I always listen to mother, so I only eat half of everything I cook. I desperately need someone else to eat the other half of this Lasagna I made last night, how’s tonight sound?
Last but not least, I’m smart. Well, I mean I’m no rocket scientist, but I did win my junior high school science fair with a nice exhibit on the mating rituals of African Swallows. Which reminds me…have you ever seen Monty Python’s ‘Holy Grail’? Oh my god, I saw it the other day and it was soooo funny. I think you’d really like it. You should come over and watch it with me. We could make it a whole evening…like a slumber party!
Well cute stuff, I’m sure you have hundreds of big editing things to do for tomorrow’s update, so I’ll let you go. Please let me know when you would like to come over and meet my kitty, Spartacus. She uses the bathroom on all of the extra copies of the Boundary articles that I print every month and would love to meet you too. Take care Brian.
With all my love,
October 28, 2000
Well my love, I guess you’re just a little to busy to respond to my last letter as quickly as I would have hoped, but don’t worry, I’m not mad at you yet! I figured that if I were to write you again you would probably have time to get to one of the two letters and write me a little something back. Perhaps this will serve as a little reminder that you have a gorgeous woman waiting for you to return her love.
Well, since the last time I wrote you a ton of things have been going on. I had this guy in my College Algebra class hit on me! He walked up to me and said, “Ummm…hey can I borrow your homework? I got drunk and threw up on mine.” Well, he may not have asked me out on a date or anything but it felt so good to see lusty desperation on the face of a young man. I didn’t give him my homework though. Mother always said that cheating was wrong and that people who cheat have a one-way ticket to H-E-Double Hockey Sticks. I also told him you were my boyfriend, I hope I wasn’t being too presumptuous.
Good, I figured you’d understand. Spartacus, my kitty, asked about you again the other night. I told him that you were a very busy man and that you would probably drop by whenever you got a free second. He’s such and impatient kitty.
Oh my god…I have the funniest story to tell you. The other night I was making a big pot of Spaghetti because I thought that you were going to drop by and surprise me. Hehe…I felt so silly when you didn’t show up. I told Spartacus that you probably had some staff meeting to go to or something like that. Anyway, I was eating my fourth helping of pasta when all of a sudden a huge forkful of it fell into my cleavage. Hahahaha…I immediately thought of you pulling it out with your teeth.
Well, one again, thank you for your thoughts and your love. I did mention that I can feel you thinking about me right? Well if I didn’t then just know that I’m thinking of you too my dear sweet editor.
November 5, 2000
All right, so I’m a little hurt that it’s been close to a month and still no word from you. You could have sent me a post-it-note and I would have been happy. The least you could do is send me a photo of yourself, naked, while drinking a Slurpee and sitting on something very cold. You know how often I dream of that.
Spartacus is pissed. He says that you’re a two-faced liar. He says that you never loved me and that you hope I die with a thousand electric eels attached to my most tender of parts. I told him that he was a liar and that he wouldn’t get fed. He hissed at me and stormed out of the house. He didn’t even pack his little furry mouse with the bell on the nose. Now I’m so horribly alone. Brian…I need you more then ever.
I’m listening to Matchbox 20 right now. You know…our song. You know the part when he says, “When you’re gone…baby it’s time to come home.” That’s how I feel right now. When you’re gone I hate it …it makes me sick to my stomach and I can’t breathe. I keep thinking that one day you’re going to show up with a nice big rose for me…but you haven’t yet.
I feel like I need to tell you some things. I haven’t been completely truthful with you and I think you should know that. Listen Brian…I’ve been eating all the food I’ve been cooking for the past five years. My mother told me not too, but I wouldn’t listen. I love pork chops, sauerkraut, beans, and potatoes. I make a mean Tuna Casserole and I do wish you would come and help me eat it…
So this will be my last letter for a few days. If you write and I don’t write back for a couple of days, know that I am back home with mother. This weekend is her and my father’s 30th anniversary. He died when I was 14 in a boating accident off the coast of Borneo and this particular weekend is extremely hard for her. She often bursts into violent fits and throws some of her wedding china. Oh, can I ask you a favor, could you drop by my apartment and feed Spartacus. He hasn’t returned yet, but I think that he’ll probably drop by for a bite to eat or something on Saturday. I usually take him with me, but I can’t wait around forever for that silly cat, can I? If you could do that for me there will be something very special in it for you when I get back.
Well, take care, and I will hopefully see you when I get back. Have a great weekend love,
November 8, 2000
Well Brian, I was hoping I would come home and find you sitting on my couch with one of the Heineken’s I bought for you. You weren’t…so I cried. When I finished crying, I decided that I needed to probably open the back door for Spartacus, because he usually comes into the house through the little kitty door that I had installed for him. When I opened the door, do you know what I found Mr. EDITOR IN CHIEF?? I know you know what I found. I found Spartacus impaled on the small little fence that boarders my oh so tiny back yard. God…it was awful. His little kitty legs were dangling from his torso like pendulums on my mother’s grandfather clock (which she smashed…more on that later). I pulled him off, leaving his entrails on the spike of death, and gave him a proper kitty burial. I doubt you need to be told whom I deem responsible for this…YOU.
So my mother had a horrible fit this weekend. She began with punches toward my chest and head and then stormed out into the living room. When she saw the Grandfather Clock my father bought her on their third wedding anniversary she screamed in anguish and kicked in the glass front. She then toppled it over and did the Mexican hat dance on top of it. I really didn’t think she could dance like that. Finally she passed out and I had to take her to the hospital to treat some of the minor cuts and bruises she sustained during the 6-hour fight. Needless to say, I’m beat.
So Mr. Melton, I will end this letter by hoping that you think about what you have done between now and the time I see you. If you need to talk about the guilt you are feeling for my kitty’s death, please don’t hesitate to call, after all, we’re still friends.
November 15, 2000
This will be the very last letter I send to you.
November 23, 2000
To Whom It May Concern:
Please notify Brian Melton that I will be leaving Austin as of this weekend and withdrawing from the University of Texas. He should know that I am going to be living at my mother’s home in Tulsa, tending to her needs in the nursing home arrangements we have made. Tell him that I do believe that it is over between us, and that I can no longer take the mental punishment that he puts me through. I do hope he understands that this is for the best and that I do not wish that he rot in a large vat of bacon grease as I told the good lord last night. I hope that there are no hard feelings and that he knows I harbor none on behalf of the murder of my kitty. I do wish him the best in whatever idiotic field he pursues and that I hope Viagra is a viable option for him in the future.
Jessica J. Regan
Oh my god...